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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730974">Hot Chocolate at Steaming Hotties</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/syazzypanda/pseuds/syazzypanda'>syazzypanda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>13 Reasons Why (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Inspired by Fanart, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:15:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,781</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25730974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/syazzypanda/pseuds/syazzypanda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie St. George and Winston Williams worked well together. And then Alex Standall walked into the coffee shop.</p>
<p>Or, the one where Charlie and Winston are rival baristas and Alex is the quiet new customer with nosy friends.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlie St. George/Alex Standall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted to write a one-shot but like... looks like this is gonna have 3 parts? I hope. The Chalex Coffee shop AU with lots of coffee shop shenanigans. </p>
<p>This was supposed to be for Day 7 of Chalex Week but I got busy :(</p>
<p>Inspired by this beautiful artwork: https://ricoka.tumblr.com/post/625000396661948416/chalex-week-2020-day-3-alternative-universe</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie liked his job at the coffee shop a lot. </p>
<p>It was a quaint place, walls lined with cheesy coffee-themed art that would border on obnoxious if the space was grander. Instead, the little shop was beautifully decorated with indoor plants, from the many pots of devil’s ivy on the shelves and the small cactus corner by the entrance. The inside smelled earthy, a mixture of coffee beans and vanilla and freshly baked goods and the actual fresh dirt that they had to scoop every few days because their boss had also left her actual houseplants in the shop and part of their job was to take care of them. A vintage stereo system was tucked in the corner, and vinyl records stashed on a shelf next to an array of old cassettes, worn hardback editions of books and a single Rubik’s Cube. </p>
<p>It was a lovely little coffee shop that, unfortunately, was named Steaming Hotties. </p>
<p>Charlie liked his job. He knew most of their regular customers by name. Some of them even had his number so they could text him their order so it would be ready for pick up when they got there. He knew their mannerisms. He knew that Ryan Shaver could work in a corner and not look up for hours, only taking breaks to pound down his drinks (Black Americano) that he’d already pre-paid for and had the baristas bring to him at two hour intervals. He knew that Sheri Holland would come in every two days after hitting the gym for her fix (Iced Latte with a Pump of Vanilla) and that Clay Jensen, for some reason that Charlie had always wondered but never questioned, had his iced coffee watered down for at least half an hour before coming in to pick it up. </p>
<p>Charlie even liked Winston, his quiet, sardonic, beautiful co-worker. Their only point of contact was only ever through the coffee shop and Charlie rarely saw him outside of work. Still, they were friendly, and for that Charlie was grateful. They both had similar work ethics, which meant that their shifts ran—on most days at least—without a hitch. They worked like a well-oiled machine, feeding off each other’s energy and always ready to lend a hand if one of them was overwhelmed. Working with Winston was fun. </p>
<p>Then one rainy day Alex Standall walked into the coffee shop and suddenly working with Winston was decidedly a lot less fun. </p>
<p>Call it fate, bad luck, or scene III of the poorly scripted comedy that is his life, but Charlie was in the back room sorting through some new shipment of coffee beans when he heard the bell hanging behind the front door chime, signalling that there was a customer in the store. Knowing that Winston was in front, Charlie took his time, arranging and then rearranging the boxes according to colour, then size, then finally according to which boxes he liked the most. </p>
<p>Now, all things considering, he wasn’t back there too long. Winston would later gloat that it had been less than three minutes, but it was definitely three—excruciatingly long—minutes that set the direction for the rest of his life. And for good reason: Charlie walked out of the room, humming quietly under his breath, and that was when he saw him, leaning against the collection counter waiting for his order. He was fiddling with his phone in one hand, the other tapping listlessly against the polished surface that Charlie had spent a good ten minutes meticulously clearing earlier after someone had spilled their caramel latte. </p>
<p>Then he looked up, his eyes meeting Charlie’s from across the counter.</p>
<p>Charlie had read about this in his mother’s romance novels. Moments in time that stretch beyond comprehension, rippling into infinity from a single event. This is what he had imagined it would feel like. A moment, suspended in space between two fixed points. One was Charlie, the other was this beautiful boy standing in front of him.<br/>
<br/>
He felt almost lightheaded, so it’s hard to fault him when the only thing he could say was, “<em>Oh</em>.”<br/>
<br/>
The other boy’s eyes—such a lovely shade of blue that reminded Charlie of both summer skies and the rolling ocean—seemed curious, eyebrows arched, “Um, is there something on my face?”<br/>
<br/>
Charlie felt like he was just regaining his breath, his mouth opening to form words that he hadn’t even considered yet, when Winston slid into his vision between them. Charlie was now staring into the back of Winston’s dark curls as the other boy spoke in a voice tinged with more enthusiasm than Charlie had ever heard before yet still somehow maintaining that characteristic drawl, “A vanilla mocha hot cocoa for you. Thank you for supporting local businesses.”<br/>
<br/>
This was surprising for several reasons. The first being that it wasn’t the shop’s policy to say that. Secondly, Charlie <em> knew </em> for a fact that Winston doesn’t give a fuck about supporting local businesses. How many times had Winston walked <em> into work </em> with a Starbucks iced latte?<br/>
<br/>
The other boy, <em> clearly </em> not knowing about Winston’s disloyalty to small businesses, let out a laugh, “Gotta do my part, I guess.”<br/>
<br/>
“Well, I hope you come back,” Winston’s voice was smooth, like butter in a warm pan<em>. </em> “Next time maybe you can tell me more about this elusive hot chocolate recipe you’re trying to find. I’ll be happy to help.”<br/>
<br/>
“Thanks, I’ll see you around.” He raised his cup and pushed away from the counter. He was already halfway across the shop when Charlie noticed that he had his collar pushed up, his shoulders spattered with rainwater. He must have ducked into the store when it started drizzling, and it didn’t take a genius to deduce that 1) He was going to get drenched, and 2) He had walked in without an umbrella. Which led to the dawning conclusion that: 3) Charlie can lend the cute boy his umbrella.<br/>
<br/>
It was this realisation that made Charlie find his voice again, sidestepping Winston as he did so, “Wait! You can use my umbrella.” He grabbed the violet umbrella from under the counter and walked around it, holding it out to the other boy. “You can just, um, bring it back, whenever.”<br/>
<br/>
The boy’s gaze was inquisitive, if not borderline suspicious, “Is this… part of the customer service handbook…?”<br/>
<br/>
“N-No,” Charlie shook his head. His face felt warm. “It’s raining, you’ll get wet.” He could have sworn he heard a muttered, ‘No shit, Sherlock’ from behind him, but pressed on. “I work here most days, you can just drop it off when you’re in the neighbourhood. Um, my name’s Charlie.”<br/>
<br/>
Charlie could almost see the gears turning in the boy’s head. It wasn’t a tough choice. “Thank you, Charlie,” he accepted the umbrella, the corners of his lips turning upwards just the slightest. It was enough to make Charlie feel woozy again. “I’m Alex. You’ll get your umbrella back soon, I promise.”<br/>
<br/>
The umbrella hid Alex’s face as he stepped out into the rain and disappeared around the corner. Charlie stood, staring at the spot where he had left his field of vision, the phantom of his smile still flickering in his mind’s eye.<br/>
<br/>
He was suddenly very aware of the deafening silence in the coffee shop, the sound of rain highlighting the complete absence of any other sound. Slowly, ever so slowly, Charlie turned around.<br/>
<br/>
Winston was still standing where he had last seen him, elbows resting on the counter. His dark eyes were gleaming, calculating, as he stared Charlie down. A part of Charlie felt like this wouldn’t seem out of place in one of those old Western flicks that he used to play at his grandparent’s house. It was two people sizing each other up before the showdown.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, Winston clicked his tongue, still resting languidly against the counter, “Well, I definitely can’t wait to see him again.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So... I said this was going to have 3 parts... and I played myself... fingers crossed this ends at 4 or 5 chapters. </p><p>This chapter happened cause QueenC said she was fanserviced with the first chapter name-dropping Sheri.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie wasn’t sure when exactly the battle lines were drawn. If he were to hazard a guess, it was probably the moment he had decided to one-up Winston’s customer service with his umbrella.<br/><br/>It had started inconspicuously enough. The next time Alex came into Steaming Hotties was four days later, Charlie’s umbrella in one hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder. Charlie had seen him first, but Winston beat him when he yelled out, “Hi Alex! Welcome to Steaming Hotties!”<br/><br/>Charlie held back a curse but continued to smile as Alex approached the counter. He thought: ‘It must be impossible for anyone to not smile when they see him’. He thought: ‘Oh my god you’ve said two sentences to him pull yourself together St. George’, then ‘Oh my god oh my god he’s been standing there for a few seconds say something.’<br/><br/>Winston was suddenly beside him, so close that his elbow dug into Charlie’s side, “What can I get you today? Since Charlie seems to be taking too long.” He turned to Charlie, elbow pressing harder into his side, “I’ll handle this, why don’t you clear that table in the corner?”<br/><br/>Charlie opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Alex this time, “I’m just dropping off the umbrella. Class starts in 10 minutes.” He was looking right at Charlie and for a moment Charlie had to remind himself to wipe the deer in the headlights look from his face. Berkeley was full of beautiful people but it’s not every day the most beautiful boy in the whole goddamn world showed up to return your stupid umbrella. A beautiful boy who he could now surmise attended UC Berkeley if he was attempting to get there in 10 minutes.<br/><br/>It was this thought that spurred Charlie to do what he did next. “Let me get you something for the road then.” He slid the back of the glass display open and reached in for a few cookies off the top shelf and popped them into a takeaway bag. He slid the bag across the counter, “Compliments from Steaming Hotties.” <em> Jesus, now Winston had gotten him doing this stupid bit. </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> Alex seemed more confused than anything, “Uh, I don’t think I’ve spent enough here to be getting free shit, but thank you.” He passed the umbrella across the counter in a similar way and picked up the bag with both hands, that adorably confused—and perhaps even slightly mistrustful—expression still clear in the stitch of his eyebrows.<br/><br/>Charlie had to think fast, “People come for the coffee but stay for the customer service.”<br/><br/>“It’s the only way small businesses can compete under capitalism,” Winston quipped.<br/><br/>Alex eyed them both, his lips thin as if suppressing a smile. At least Charlie hoped it was a smile. For all he knew Alex could probably be thinking that the two baristas were weirdos with no sense of personal space judging by the elbow still digging into Charlie’s side.<br/><br/>“If I knew sticking it to capitalism would get me free cookies I would’ve come in ages ago,” Alex finally said. He nodded at the two, “Thanks for the cookies. And thanks again for the umbrella, Charlie.”<br/><br/>Winston cut him off. Again. “Hope to see you back here again, Alex!”<br/><br/>Alex waved at them before departing, the door closing behind him with a delicate bell chime. Winston’s smile slipped off the moment he rounded the corner, expression deadpan as he turned to face Charlie, “Do I sound as obnoxious as you do when I say Steaming Hotties?”<br/><br/>“You sound worse.”<br/><br/>“Jesus,” Winston ran a hand through his hair. Charlie wondered what Winston ever did to deserve that thick, curly hair. It was lovely hair. “I’ll drop the Steaming Hotties bit if you do?”<br/><br/>Charlie shrugged, eyeing a stray on Winston’s forehead. Did Alex like Winston’s stupid, lovely hair? “Deal.”<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>When Alex showed up two days later he made a beeline straight towards the counter, and by extension, Charlie, “Those were the best cookies I’ve ever had. Where have they been all my life?”<br/><br/>“I make them myself!” Charlie beamed. He pretended not to notice the scowl on Winston’s face, not that it was easy to focus on anything else with Alex there. “I’m glad you like them. What can I get you today?”<br/><br/>Alex rapped his fingers on the counter, eyes scanning the chalkboard menu above them in thought, “I’ll have a mochaccino, please.”<br/><br/>“Having here or to go?” <em> Please say having here please say having here. </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> “Having here.”<br/><br/>“Alright then, I’ll bring it over in a bit.” Charlie’s face almost hurt from smiling, but it was worth it.<br/><br/>The two cookies he brought along with the drink was a safe bet. Everyone likes cookies. The scribbled note on Alex’s mochaccino was what Charlie staked his bets on.<br/><br/><b> <em>Where have you bean all my life? </em> </b> <b> <em><br/></em> </b> <b> <em><br/></em> </b> Alex’s amused snort as he read it was enough to keep the smile on Charlie’s face for the rest of his shift. Charlie wasn’t keeping score, but he would be lying to himself if he didn’t think that he scored points for that.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>Unfortunately, using the same scheme it would appear that Winston won the next few points.<br/><br/>The dark haired barista had steadier hands between the two of them and had always excelled in creating intricate foam art on their drinks. So when Alex came in a few days later—Winston had leapt at the register, hissing, “Mine!” and went on to greet Alex in a regular, drawled hello—and ordered another mocchacino, Winston was poised for success.<br/><br/>All Charlie could do was watch from where he was restocking the glass display as Winston made a beautiful heart with a touch of food dye on the mocchacino. Then, to make matters <em> worse </em> , it turns out that Alex had a French textbook opened on the table when Winston served his drink and of course, <em> of course, </em> it had to be the language that Winston was all too fluent in.<br/><br/>They spoke for twenty minutes. Mostly in French, mostly with Alex flipping through his book and Winston leaning over the table with his stupid, sexy hair falling in front of his stupid, sexy face and speaking stupid, sexy French. Twenty agonizingly long, drawn out minutes because that was the exact time Charlie had set the oven for.<br/><br/>He was so preoccupied with trying not to seem like a creep that it was only when the bell chimed did he realise that Sheri Holland had strolled in. She was dressed in her usual gym clothes, a comfy sports bra under a thin, unzipped sweater and a pair of grey yoga pants. It was all the range in Berkeley. Charlie had wondered on more than one occasion how many pairs of identical yoga pants did Sheri own.<br/><br/>“Hi Sheri!” He chirped. “The usual?”<br/><br/>“Yes, please.” Sheri beamed, leaning against the counter.<br/><br/>Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her skin was glowing, face flushed and rosy from exercise. Charlie wondered how someone could look so good after working out, so he asked, “How do you look so good after working out?”<br/><br/>Sheri winked playfully, “Trade secret. You should come to the gym with me sometime."<br/><br/>Charlie laughed as he added the finishing touch—a pump of vanilla—to her latte, “I’ll check my schedule.” He cleared his throat and presented the drink to her with a theatrical bow, “A drink for the lovely Miss Sheri.”<br/><br/>Sheri laughed and said something, but whatever it is she said was lost to Charlie as his vision narrowed to a point just above Sheri’s shoulder. Alex was laughing. It was just a flash, a golden sound that ended much too soon for Charlie’s liking, although he wished that it wasn’t Winston by his side that had elicited that musical sound.<br/><br/>It was a testament to how he wore his heart out on his sleeve that Sheri must have seen the expression on his face. She chanced a glance over her shoulder, following his gaze. She was definitely the more subtle between the two of them. Sheri turned back and took a quick sip from her straw, “So… did I just walk in to some weird love triangle showdown?”<br/><br/>“I mean,” Charlie kept his voice low, leaning forwards. A part of him was pleased to see that Sheri mimicked the movement. It almost felt conspiratorial. “He just started coming in and Winston and I have been trying to, like, I don’t know, make him like one of us more.” Did this sound as stupid to Sheri as it felt coming out of his mouth?<br/><br/>Charlie considered it a testament to Sheri's kindness that her expression bore no trace of judgment. Her eyes were trained slightly to the right of him, and Charlie realised that she was checking out Alex’s reflection in the narrow strip of mirror above the coffee maker. “Well, I don’t think your crush is misplaced. He is <em> very </em> cute.”<br/><br/>“He is, isn’t he?” Charlie gushed, his voice tinged with excitement even as he remembered to keep his volume down. “I just want to hold his hand and bake cookies for him.”<br/><br/>Sheri rested her straw against her bottom lip, “Then go get your man, St. George. It looks like Winston’s marking his territory.”<br/><br/>Charlie glanced over Sheri’s shoulder and almost knocked over a stack of cups by his elbow when he saw Alex with Winston’s phone. He was still talking to the other boy as he typed what Charlie hoped <em> wasn’t </em> but what most probably <em> was </em> his number, if Winston’s shit eating grin was anything to go by.<br/><br/>His distress must have reflected on his face, because Sheri reached out and gave his hand a friendly squeeze. “I gotta go, but I’ll do you a solid to get pretty boy to notice you.” With that she turned around, hips sashaying across the room, drink in hand. She stopped right by the door and tossed her hair, turning slightly to smile over her shoulder and proclaiming loudly, “So I’ll see you at the gym tomorrow, Charlie?”<br/><br/>“Uh, wh-” Sheri’s eyes went so wide that it seemed to proportionally convey how loudly she wanted to yell—it was enough to make him backtrack. “Y-Yeah! See you then, Sheri.”<br/><br/>She lifted her drink and winked, head tilting the slightest towards Alex’s direction before heading out. Charlie pretended to clean the counter—really, he just moved two napkins a few inches to the right—before glancing towards Alex. Winston had left him (<em>oh thank god</em>) and was clearing away a table on the other side of the room. So Charlie had a clear view of Alex staring right at him, expression perplexed. He also saw how quickly Alex ducked his head when their eyes met, almost bashfully, almost like Charlie had caught him in the middle of an illicit act, to flip through his book again.<br/><br/>Hm.<br/><br/>Maybe he still had a chance after all. </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <em><strong>Apartment B-32 Support Group</strong><br/><br/><strong>Zach</strong>: I miss you guys :(<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: we live in the same apartment I just saw you at breakfast<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: you were trying to put 20 grapes into your mouth<br/><br/><strong>Zach</strong>: you dared me to ok<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: no I specifically said ‘zach that’s too many grapes’<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: and you said ‘fucking watch me’<br/><br/><strong>Jess</strong>: I have so much work idk when I’m going to see the sun again #ripme<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: I’ve been working at this coffee shop nearby, come suffer with me tomorrow<br/><br/><strong>Jess</strong>: if you’re at Starbucks is2g<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: no, steaming hotties<br/><br/><strong>Zach</strong>: are you hitting on us cause I like that name<br/><br/><strong>Zach</strong>: brb<br/><br/>[<strong>ZachDempsey</strong> changed the group name to ‘<strong>Steaming Hotties @ Apartment B-32</strong>’]<br/><br/><strong>Jess</strong>: Oh! My friend Sheri gets her coffee there<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: is Sheri super hot and goes to the gym a lot<br/><br/><strong>Jess</strong>: Alex don’t you dare<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: no I’m not interested in your friend jesus but I could use your help<br/><br/><strong>Zach</strong>: Alex might not be but I am in fact very interested in Jess’s friend Jesus<br/><br/><strong>Jess</strong>: ok you got me now I’m curious<br/><br/><strong>Jess</strong>: meet you there tomorrow?<br/><br/><strong>Alex</strong>: sounds good<br/><br/><strong>Zach</strong>: @JessD why are you ignoring me<br/><br/><strong>Jess</strong>: goodnight<br/><br/><strong>Zach</strong>: it’s 5PM<br/><br/><strong>Jess</strong>: time isn’t real I haven’t slept in 30 hours</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>"Oh it'll be a one-shot" I said. "2-3k words" I said.</p><p>6.7k words later and I hope we're halfway there my dudes.</p><p>Thank you darling QueenC who put up with me constantly going "I'M TIRED" and looking at it with fresh eyes because I was starting to forget how to read.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days turned into weeks as August slipped away like a bottle of wine, summer heat melting away in favour of cooler breezes as autumn came knocking on Berkeley’s doorstep. Winston, of course, was already wearing a scarf indoors since <em> July</em>.<br/><br/>Alex had become a semi-regular in the coffee shop, dipping in and out every few days. Sometimes he’d commandeer a table and spend a few good hours on his laptop, other days he’d drop in for a take away. Charlie took the opportunity to slip him a few extra cookies or a muffin, his scribbled pick up lines always seemed to elicit a grin from Alex during those visits.<br/><br/>(Then one day Charlie was in the backroom when he heard Alex’s familiar timbre outside, asking for his drink to go. He had tried to walk out but found the door jammed shut. It swung open a few minutes later, revealing Winston in all his curly haired and fashionable glory, as well as a room sorely lacking of Alex.<br/><br/>Winston’s smile was equal parts cryptic and annoying, “Oh, that was unfortunate.”)<br/><br/>Charlie learned his full name from Winston, unfortunately. Winston hadn’t asked for his number but apparently had gotten hold of his Instagram. Charlie didn’t want to cyberstalk him, and it had taken a few days before he finally mustered the courage to hit ‘Follow’. It was a few hours before Alex accepted and returned his follow. It seemed that the other boy kept off social media for the most part however. The only thing that Charlie could get from his feed was that he had some weird looking dogs that he was very proud of—judging from the frequency that they appeared on his profile.<br/><br/>It was towards the end of August when something unexpected happened, when fate decided to bring some people together into Steaming Hotties for a friendly nudge in the right direction…<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>“-and that’s why How I Met Your Mother slid into cultural irrelevance in modern media, ergo becoming ‘<em>How I Met My First Fan Disappointment</em>’.” Diego finished with a flourish, clapping his hands together by his chest expectantly. Charlie thought that he looked somewhat like an overeager penguin.<br/><br/>Diego was seated right by the counter, some books spread out in front of him and his laptop opened to Microsoft Powerpoint. It had been a quiet day in the store, and one thing had led to another and somehow, with minimal pleading, Charlie and Winston had found themselves listening in as Diego shared his presentation for the TV studies class he had signed up for. A presentation that he seemed to be waiting anxiously for some feedback if, “So guys, feedback?” was anything to go by.<br/><br/>“I thought it was pretty good,” Charlie started. He pushed the stack of cups he had been cleaning neatly against the side of the counter. “You structured your arguments really well, and the slides are pretty funny and eye-catching. Uh, maybe you can drop that anecdote in the middle about how you tried to pick up girls in high school using The Playbook?”<br/><br/>“Yeah,” Winston agreed, “You come off sounding like a douche. Unless that’s what you’re going for, then by all means go on ahead.”<br/><br/>Diego shook his head but took notes nonetheless, tapping his pen listlessly once he was done. “Anything else?”<br/><br/>“And drop that last bit from ‘ergo’ too,” Winston added, moving around them towards the backroom. “You came off both pretentious <em> and </em> unfunny. Not a difficult feat for you but at least try to minimise it for the class.”<br/><br/>“Fine. Whatever.” Diego rolled his eyes, “If <em> you </em> of all people are calling me pretentious then I must be doing something wrong.”<br/><br/>Winston laughed, flipping his middle finger over his shoulder as he disappeared into the backroom. There was no bite in the gesture. Charlie and Diego shared an apartment with their friend Luke, and over multiple visits and discounted cups of coffee, even Diego and Winston had managed to strike a friendship. Like Charlie, Diego never saw Winston outside of Steaming Hotties, though he <em> had </em> theorised that from Winston’s dressing and general demeanour that the other boy was probably involved with some form of cult. Luke had disagreed, saying that he had to be a vampire instead. This led to both Diego and Luke coming to an agreement that Wintston was <em> definitely </em> part of a vampire cult.<br/><br/>That was the night Charlie decided that he had to limit their access to his special cookies.<br/><br/>Diego stretched forwards with a yawn, resting an elbow on the table and his handsome face on his fist. He looked like he was posing for a fashion spread with those intense, dark eyes and slight grin, “So, where’s this dude you’ve been lusting over? I keep coming in to see him but he’s never here.”<br/><br/>“First of all, I’m not lusting over him,” Charlie replied. “Secondly, he’s here in the evening most days and you only show up when the shop is closing cause you want the old pastries we throw out.”<br/><br/>Diego shrugged, but didn’t disagree. Instead, he asked, “Do you know how much it costs living in Berkeley?”<br/><br/>“Unless you’ve been living with a ghost the past few years you’d know that I live here too,” Charlie replied dryly.<br/><br/>“Exactly. Most days I have to decide between paying for lunch or printing an assignment. My clothes are ripped and I’m passing it off as fashion.” He pointed at Charlie, “I’ve been relying on your charity for cheap coffee,” then swung his arm towards the glass display, “and for free, slightly stale snacks.”<br/><br/>Charlie shrugged, leaning against the counter on his forearms, “For the record, I like the way you dress.”<br/><br/>“Hell yeah, didn’t say I’m not a fashion icon.” Diego poked Charlie’s arm, “Now where’s this dude, Alex, right? I swear if I didn’t know that both you and Winston are after him I’d think you’re just seeing things. I’m still not convinced he’s not like, a collective delusion, or a fever dream, or something.”<br/><br/>“He’s not a fever dream.” <em> Though sometimes I look at him and it feels like the whole room has grown several degrees warmer. </em> “I just,” he paused, considering the words carefully, “don’t want to come on too strong and scare him, you know?”<br/><br/>Diego’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline, “Dude, come on. Just tell him how you feel.”<br/><br/>Charlie wiped off a particularly tough stain on the counter with a grunt. It wasn’t that the thought had never crossed his mind, of course, Charlie was nothing if not honest. No, what was stopping him was the fact that he didn’t want to scare off the other boy by being too forthcoming. Hell, for all their rivalry, neither Winton nor himself can even entirely confirm that Alex was into boys. Charlie suspected that it was something Diego, for all his support, was not able to wrap his head around. So he just replied, “No way.”<br/><br/>“You can’t just give up,” Diego argued. He dropped the straw in favour of gesticulating with both hands, “What would a cookie do?”<br/><br/>Charlie’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, “What?”<br/><br/>His friend shrugged, “I don’t know, dude. I’m just trying to speak your language.”<br/><br/>The sheer absurdity of the statement coupled with the genuine enthusiasm in his friend’s eyes was enough to elicit a fond chuckle from Charlie. He opened his mouth to reply, it might have been something witty, it might have been just a noise of acknowledgement, but they never found out what he was going to say because at that moment something happened that was ever so slightly out of the ordinary. Something that made the words die on Charlie’s tongue and Diego to look up in surprise and follow his gaze to seek the source of his friend’s distraction this time.<br/><br/>Now, Charlie was very well aware that Alex had a life outside of the blessed hours he gets to see him in the shop. On days where he doesn’t come in, Charlie had imagined him on campus, or getting Thai food from Charlie’s favourite restaurant a few blocks away. Maybe he’s with friends, maybe he goes home to a partner who kisses him at the doorway and maybe Charlie and Winston are just making utter fools of themselves.<br/><br/>The maybes are infinite.<br/><br/>Today just happened to be the day that Alex Standall walked into the shop with one of those maybes.<br/><br/>The girl by his side was beautiful, thick hair pulled back into a ponytail out of her face. Her dark eyes were bright, lips parted in a grin in response to something Alex was saying as he held the door open for her. They looked at ease with each other, smiles soft and familiar and then she’s <em> touching his arm a- </em> <em><br/></em> <em><br/></em> He didn’t realise that Winston, sneaky little bastard, had crept up behind him and almost jumped when he urgently whispered, “Shit, girlfriend?”<br/><br/>“Don’t be so heteronormative. They could just be friends,” Diego whispered back, although Charlie suspected that from the way he was staring at the girl that it might be more wishful thinking on his part. He tore his gaze away, still whispering, “So that’s Alex?”<br/><br/>“No, we’re just super invested in random people who walk in,” Winston hissed back.<br/><br/>“Shut up both of you- Alex! Hi! What could I get you today?” Was he speaking too loudly? It sounded loud.<br/><br/>Alex waved at them both, coming up to the counter with the girl hovering over his shoulder. “Hey Charlie, Winston, just a hot cocoa today please. And whatever she’s getting.” He glanced over at her, “You still have my wallet, right?”<br/><br/>Charlie’s smile felt plastered on. It felt like Winston had completely stopped breathing behind him. They must have looked like fools standing there together. Fresh clown-school graduates. The girl was staring at them both even as she reached for Alex’s arm, “Yeah, I do. Can you grab a table first? I haven’t decided what I want yet.”<br/><br/>Alex shot her a confused look, “You get the exact same thing wherever we go. But sure.” He nodded to them before going off, leaving the three of them staring at each other for a few heartbeats that seemed to stretch on forever if Diego’s awkward cough was anything to go by.<br/><br/>“Um, hi. Can I get an oat milk iced latte?”<br/><br/>“Of course!” Great, beautiful <em> and </em> she likes oat milk?? “Can I get a name with that order?”<br/><br/>She smiled, eyes flickering from him to Winston and briefly landing on Diego, “It’s Jess.”<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>“They’re into you,” Jessica announced confidently as she sank into the chair beside Alex, passing his drink across the table. “If I knew you were out and about seducing baristas I would have forced myself to come work here with you ages ago.”<br/><br/>Alex’s hands closed around the warm ceramic mug, expression confused, “Wha-?”<br/><br/>“Both the baristas are into you.” Jessica took a long sip of her drink and swallowed, looking thoughtful, “Neither of them looked thrilled to see me. Don’t look now but I bet they’re staring at us like a pack of meerkats.”<br/><br/>Alex, of course, turned to look right then. Jessica, if not questionable in her methods was definitely on point with her reasoning, was right. Winston and Charlie (ashen-faced; confused) seemed to be engaged in a heated whisper battle with the third boy (bright-eyed; gleeful) seated at the counter as their eyes were trained towards Alex and Jessica. The two abruptly broke apart when they caught Alex staring back. Winston literally backed up into the backroom, moving so fast that his shoulder caught the door frame before he whirled around and disappeared with a flash of his scarf.<br/><br/>And Charlie?<br/><br/>For some reason—an unfathomable, utterly bewildering reason—Charlie <em> dropped </em> behind the counter, the top of his head disappearing from view like the sun sinking into the horizon. The last boy left behind, or at least the one still visible, had his hands braced on his knees, practically wheezing in laughter.<br/><br/>There are moments in your life when you feel the pieces fall into place, like when the waiter comes out with your food at the critical time period when you were on the precipice of ‘hungry’ to ‘too hungry’, or when that 3000 word paper starts to come together in some semblance of a structure the more resources you sling at it at 2AM. Maybe it was the day Hannah Baker walked into the apartment when they were on the verge of getting kicked out to cover the final quarter of the rent.<br/><br/>(And then she made the permanent decision to leave them, and the butterfly effect rippled so violently across the fabric of their lives that Alex nearly, very nearly, got dragged into oblivion with the undertow.)<br/><br/>This time around the realisation came sans the violence, but it suddenly all made sense. Alex turned around towards Jessica, whispering, “Shit, I thought they were just really into giving away free stuff and super into customer service.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, cause they’re both crushing on you,” Jessica whispered back. “You do know that coffee shops in Berkeley are cutthroat, right? The Bean Brothers down the block charged me double just for asking if they could give me an extra squirt of whip cream.” She shook her head, “Can’t believe you managed to seduce them both.”<br/><br/>“I didn’t…” Alex sputtered. “I didn’t mean to!”<br/><br/>“Sure, and I didn’t mean to spend my early twenties broke and sleep deprived either but here I am.” Jessica reached out and grasped Alex’s hand over the table, squeezing it slightly. She had meant it as an act of comfort, but from the way Alex’s eyes darted over her shoulder she could suss that there was definitely something else brimming under her friend’s befuddled facade. And Jessica is nothing if not persistent. “Do you like either one of them?” A brief pause, then she added, “Or are you into, like, polyamory or something?”<br/><br/>Alex’s disbelieving eye roll was almost second nature at this point, “I’m not looking to date both of them, thanks.”<br/><br/>Jessica’s own dark eyes gleamed in triumph, “Ah, but that means you do think of dating one of them.”<br/><br/>Her friend glared at her, but the slight tinge of pink that kissed his cheeks was enough of an answer. Jessica released his hand and swivelled her head back towards the counter where Charlie had sheepishly re-emerged and was working on a drink for a customer. His friend, the dark haired boy who seemed to be enjoying his front row seat to whatever it was unfurling in the coffee shop, was taking a sip from a cup. More importantly however, he was alone.<br/><br/>Jessica stood up, knocking her chair back with the stance of a woman on a mission, “You can decide once we get more answers from him.”<br/><br/>The mug nearly slipped out of Alex’s hand, “ <em> Jess oh my go- </em> ”<br/><br/>She was gone.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>Diego Torres would put everything on the line for optimistic, sometimes even aggressively kind Charlie St. George. He was even fond of sharp-witted, bluntly cynical Winston Williams. It was this bond that stopped him from playing wingman to either one of them, although the frequency that he’s seen ‘Taylor Swift songs that make you cry over an ex you don’t have’, ‘Taylor Swift songs that make you pine for the cute boy across the street’ and the Titanic theme that Charlie has cycled through on Spotify was… concerning.<br/><br/>He was happy to just stay out of this, but then he saw Jessica Davis striding purposely in his direction and knew that there was no way he was able to keep it that way.<br/><br/>“Hey, sorry about this, but can we talk?” She waved a hand to her side, gesturing towards the table where Alex was sitting. “Are you friends with the baristas?”<br/><br/>“Uh, yeah,” he nodded, unsure of what else to say. He was very aware that Charlie was stealing glances in their direction even as he prepared drinks, and he would bet all the money in his pocket (a grand total of $12.34) that Winston was creeping on them from the crack in the backroom too.<br/><br/>“Great!” She clapped her hands, “Can you help us out and give some pointers to Alex?”<br/><br/>Diego raised his hands in surrender, “Hey, I don’t really want to get involved in this.”<br/><br/>Somewhere to their right there was a sound of tumbling cups and a muffled curse from Charlie who seemed to be struggling with trying to listen in to their conversation and work at the same time. Jessica’s eyes flickered in his direction, “Come on, do you hear any pining from either one of them? It’s easier for me to wingwoman if I have a target.”<br/><br/>“Sorry, can’t help you there,” Diego shrugged. “I’m friends with both of them.”<br/><br/>She rolled her eyes, but pressed on, “Fine, but they both are into Alex, right?”<br/><br/>He pressed both his hands around his mug, looking thoughtful, “I don’t think you need me to tell you that.”<br/><br/>“And which one would you recommend?”<br/><br/>Diego’s eyebrows shot up, “Neither.” He seemed to hear himself after the words left his mouth, then backtracked. “Ok not what I meant, they’re both great, but I can’t really promote either one of them, you know?”<br/><br/>She shook her head, but then decided on another line of questioning, “Fine, then which one of them’s better in bed?”<br/><br/>All things considering, Diego took the question quite well. Instead, he merely replied, albeit slowly, “Why… would you think I have that information?”<br/><br/></p><hr/><p><br/>It was an excruciating 42 minutes before Alex and Jessica left the coffee shop. Diego had high tailed it out of there a few minutes after Jessica had left him at the counter, effectively cutting off Charlie’s chance of asking what their conversation had been about.<br/><br/>Was she passing on a message to Diego to tell them to back off her boyfriend? Was Alex creeped out by them? The first thought was upsetting, but the second made Charlie feel almost nauseous. He had been so careful to not come on too strongly or invade his space, even if that did make him lose out to Winston on several occasions.<br/><br/>Maybe if he was lucky she was just trying to get Diego to join a stupid pyramid scheme or something. There definitely wasn’t a shortage of those in Berkeley.<br/><br/><strong>Best Bash Bros</strong><br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: Diego!! What were you guys talking about??<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: dude just thinking about that conversation made me tired<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: I need a nap<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: what happened what did I miss<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: I saw Alex<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: Sweet diego you owe me 10 bucks<br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: what???<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: Diego thought he didn’t exist<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: But I believed you from the start charlie<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: Diego saw all the taylor swift u were listening to and changed his mind but a bet is a bet<br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: I can’t believe you 2<br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: But Diego what did she say????<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: well<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: at least I can confirm he’s into dudes?<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: Sweeeeet get it st george<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: and……. she asked me…… which one of you was better in bed….. brb I thought I handled it well…. but inside I was dying…..<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: jesus who the hell is this person<br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: I’ll fill you in later Luke<br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: @DiegoTorres what did you say????<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: I can’t answer that ur my bro and it felt intrusive<br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: did you tell her that<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: well no I thought I’d take one for the team<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: so I said I was the best in bed<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: LMAO <br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: …….<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: I left before she decided to come back for round 2<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: and I didn’t get to take the leftovers :(<br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: lol I’m bringing them back<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: ur my hero<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: do you have any pavlova today? Diego ate the last one last time<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: cause he’s a bitch<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: I had dibs and that was 2 weeks ago LET IT GO LUKE<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: This ain’t Frozen and I’m not Elsa I’m not letting it go<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: hey diego knock knock<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: I’m not playing this game<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: yeah cause ur a bitch<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: Luke don’t cause a scene you’ll frighten the baby<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: who tf?<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: i’m sorry??? one of you is having a baby and I MISSED THAT???<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: no the baby is Charlie<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: he’s sensitive<br/><br/><strong>Charlie</strong>: I’m giving the pavlova to Luke<br/><br/><strong>Diego</strong>: NO<br/><br/><strong>Luke</strong>: YES<br/><br/></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've been in a funk the past week and didn't get around to replying to all the comments, but I appreciate every single one and I'm so happy that this has been received so well. I say thanks for reading each time but really, thank you so much for reading &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I appreciate the kudos and comments :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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